


Wash Away The Wild

by Iyatiku



Series: The Wreck of Our Hearts [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Wolfstar Reunion, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iyatiku/pseuds/Iyatiku
Summary: Remus and Sirius are about to start learning what love means when it's lived dormant in them for thirteen painful years, and the responsibility that comes hand in hand with grief.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The Wreck of Our Hearts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727965
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Wash Away The Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the KAWALA song. This is the closing of this particular series but maybe not the end of my time with these boys. Who even knows anymore! The world is a backward hellscape! (The notes at the end of this work contain spoilers for this work the last two parts of the series so be warned).
> 
> I want to take this opportunity to cement my solidarity with the Trans community considering recent events. Pride month exists to provide you with 30 whole days of celebration and we do celebrate you, for the next few weeks and beyond. Until Trans lives matter, all lives DO NOT matter. Educate yourself, educate each other. Joy lies in knowledge, not ignorance. I love you all a BUNCH.
> 
> I hope I can provide a little escape during these troubled times - as Remus no doubt says before going down on Sirius: Mwynhewch!

There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. - Oscar Wilde 

* * *

Dumbledore’s office resided on the west side of Hogwarts; its entrance found on the seventh floor. Remus Lupin was discovering only now, how truly large the castle was. As a teenager he had scoped out every corridor, every classroom, but it had never, ever seemed to span this infinite length and breadth. Every metre felt like a mile as he throttled along, taking steps several at a time in his bid to reach the doors while light remained, the headmaster’s words stinging the inside of his skull like brain freeze.

_“You mean he’s free?” Remus gasped, clutching the arms of his chair so hard it made his knuckles ache._

_“That I suppose, rests entirely upon the manner in which Sirius takes to his new life. Azkaban is known to take an irreversible toll on those resident there, even for short periods – Hagrid for example-“_

_“I’m sorry, sorry Headmaster I don’t mean to interrupt but are you saying he’s really free? Truly free?”_

_Dumbledore smiled at his own clasped hands, placed carefully on the desk in front of him._

_“Pending Mr Pettigrew’s trial he has been left in my care, he is not to leave the grounds and he is to return to the castle by nightfall, but within that one limitation, yes, he is free.”_

Remembering Dumbledore’s soft chuckle as he had flung himself from the office sent a thrill right through him as he hit the entrance hall.

And skidded to a halt, drawing a glance from a passing student.

A dull weight had dropped into his stomach, he took a step backwards as if stung by embarrassment.

Having been located three days ago, Remus had been transported to the hospital wing where, considering the intensity of the night’s events, Madam Pomfrey had kept him swimming in a medicinal sleep. When he had eventually clawed his way out from the haze, he had found himself quite alone. Ron Weasley had most definitely occupied a bed at the other end of the ward when he had been brought in. Harry and Hermione had been there too. If they were gone, and Sirius was free…well he was a fool wasn’t he, barrelling along like an overgrown fifteen-year-old, lanky and lean and _so in love._

In love. The last time he had truly felt in love was in the moments before Sirius had pushed him away thirteen years ago, pushing with it his heart, so deep into his chest it had taken an eleven year old buying him ice cream to remind him that he still had one, and that it was cracked and scarred and in desperate need of healing. Poverty had kept that quest on the back burner until nine months ago when Albus Dumbledore had shown up on his doorstep with a proposition. And now? Maybe his salvation waited out there in the grounds for him, or maybe his childish heart was once again ruining reality with its naivety. _Within that one limitation._ He hadn’t woken to Sirius at his bedside, had he?

“Professor Lupin?”

Remus turned a little too vigorously and tripped over his own feet as a result, an action that forced a short, somewhat hysterical laugh from his lips. _Maybe I am fifteen again_ , he thought fondly, until he spotted the speaker. Harry had paused at the bottom of the grand staircase, a hand on the banister. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that Harry had been locked in a broom cupboard with a bludger, but he did know better, and he also knew he shouldn’t feel proud of Harry’s grazes and bruises. And yet that small smile playing on the boy’s lips was as much an indication of his endurance as the scars on Remus’ face.

“Harry, what are you doing down here?” He asked rather stupidly.

“Dinner, meeting Ron and Hermione.” He gestured weakly to the great hall behind him.

“Oh! Dinner! Yes, of course, it is that time. I was just…well, I’m not sure what I was doing.” He gave the back of his head a quick scratch, avoiding Harry’s gaze while his chest swam with shame, but the boy took a few brisk steps towards him.

“Has Dumbledore told you?” His countenance had shifted immediately, and he looked eagerly up at him. “Has Dumbledore told you about Sirius? He said he was waiting until you were better – well, out of the hospital wing- how are you by the way, sorry, I forgot to ask.” This rush of words washed over Remus like nostalgia, and he was reminded not of the boy’s father for once, but his mother. That energetic forthrightness she had adopted whenever she got excited about something seemed to fit her son just as snugly. Potential humiliation aside, Remus ran a hand across his face, barely restraining another laugh, and then reached out and dropped it onto Harry’s shoulder. He couldn’t quite find the words to respond right away.

Was he well? He certainly ought to be. And yet…

His hand slid off Harry’s shoulder and he nodded. “I’m fine Harry, fine. You should go, join your friends for dinner, there’s only a few left of the school term after all. No doubt I’ll see you at the end of year feast.” He nodded and moved to pass Harry back towards the staircase.

“He’s been waiting for you though professor, he wants to see you.”

Remus paused again, rocking on his heels. The comment took him aback, but that weight hadn’t moved from his stomach, he wasn’t entirely sure how to explain it to a teenager though. To a child he had abandoned, just like he had his Godfather.

Ah. There it was. There was the rub.

Because Remus had abandoned him, hadn’t he? There had been no campaign for his honor from him, no petitions, no fight left after he had been left, alone without anybody to stop him becoming lonely. Loss was as much a part of his life as magic. James, Lily, Peter, Sirius, his mother, and then his father, and Harry…

“Professor-“

“Yes, well, Harry the thing is he wants to see somebody else, somebody he remembers from a long time ago. I’m afraid I haven’t quite lived up to…” He turned back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Let’s just say your Godfather knew a different man-”

“And so did you!” The boy interjected, “I know a lot has happened but you’re the only two left and what’s the point if after everything, you can’t still be f-friends.” The hesitation he placed on the last word made Remus think that perhaps Sirius had been quite liberal in his recounting of their relationship, but there remained still the issue of time, and its misuse by all involved.

“I know…Harry, I know you think that now this is all over things can just go back to how they were but we’ve been apart for a long time. This job, it’s the best thing that has happened to me since…since anything. Since then. Now I am still your teacher for a little while so I must insist that you join your friends-“

“What about that time a kid bought you Ice cream on Diagon Alley?”

Remus’ heart near stopped, his eyes shot up to Harry’s face which was glowing with stubborn ferocity. “I don’t know you that well professor, but I know the man I met then was as kind as the man Sirius used to know.”

“You…” he clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling emotion burn kettle hot in his throat. His eyes remained wide and unblinking, full to the brim but determined not to spill. All of those moments this year, in his office, in his classroom – keeping that heat at bay while he watched his best friend’s son evolving into everything he had naively assumed would be denied him by grief and loneliness. And yet here he stood, not glaring at him in disdain for his negligence, but with a gaze imbued with courage and heart and hope. Remus raked in a breath.

“You never wrote to me.” He managed.

It was Harry’s turn to look uncomfortable now, but he wore it well, less cowardice and more accountability, “I got confused, and Hagrid never mentioned you again, so I thought maybe you hadn’t been that close with my dad after all. Plus, you weren’t on the quidditch team like Sirius as far as I could tell, so.” He shrugged.

“No, no I never got the knack of flying.”

A gaggle of fifth years came bustling in through the doors, throwing the pair curious looks as they passed. Remus took the opportunity to turn away and compose himself. They sounded like the group who had so noisily passed him that day in Diagon Alley, or like a gangly bunch of boys fresh off their success with a certain transformation. Eventually, he turned back to Harry, who had averted his gaze. Remus liked to think he’d done so out of respect for him, it seemed like something Harry would do.

“I thought you were too much like your father when I met you this year Harry, gallivanting around the castle at night, following Sirius into the shrieking shack so recklessly but I was wrong.” He took a deep breath, “I think you’re better than him. Your parents would be exceptionally proud of you.”

“Uhm not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment professor, really” he turned back to him with a concerned look on his face, “but it looks like the sun is about to set and Sirius has to be back in the castle by dark.”

“Oh, well.” He said, remaining rooted to the spot.

Harry scratched his head, “I hope this isn’t too out of place to say but uh, he really wants to see you.” Remus watched Harry’s cheek brighten as he spoke and felt his own ears warming, “like, _really_ wants to see you.”

Remus cleared his throat, “He’s always been a bit, well, _crass_.” he said, tacking on an awkward laugh for good measure, “I’ll apologise for that. Where is he?”

The thrill from earlier was nipping ever so slightly at his heels, but Harry looked guilty as he shrugged, “He told me not to tell you, I think he figured you’d just know, sorry.”

For the first time in a long time, Remus smirked, “Well he would, wouldn’t he. Enjoy your dinner Harry.”

He patted the boy on the shoulder as he passed, walking as calmly as he could through the entrance hall until he was engulfed by the warm aroma of summer at Hogwarts. It was all he could manage not to pick up into a run again, but he forced himself to savour it. The dusky chill, the smell of freshly mown grass, the tinkle of laughter on the edge of hearing. The lake was still as he approached, the landscape ahead of him empty as far as the eye could see, but for a figure stood at the water’s edge, hands clasped behind his head, hip cocked lazily. If it weren’t for the tight, pinched look to his body and the unkempt look to his hair, he might have been a student, but any who knew him would be able to spot the harsh undertones of abuse done to that body.

“Thinking of going for a swim?” Remus asked, but the man didn’t move. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of your various altercations with merpeople over the years.”

“You’ve got it wrong Lupin, it was always the Grindylows that gave me grief.”

Sirius’ voice was husky and rough, as though from overuse. He’d sounded like that often in their latter years at Hogwarts, Remus had always put it down to the smoking. As though he could read his thoughts from there several feet in front of him, Sirius reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a pack, a very familiar pack…

“Did you steal my cigarettes?” Remus watched in shock as Sirius tipped his mouth towards the small box and pulled one of his cigarettes from it with his teeth.

“You don’t mind, do you? Could you give me a light?”

Remus watched him in amazement as he held it out between his fingers, like it was nothing, like it was just another day in a week of days where everything had been entirely normal. With an eye roll that would put Hermione Granger to shame, he slouched towards the water’s edge, snapping his fingers as he passed, relishing in the sound of surprise from Sirius’ mouth when the end of his cigarette was engulfed in orange flame.

“Well that’s a neat little trick.” Sirius muttered.

“Yes, I’ve learned a lot of them, amazing what downtime will do for you when you can’t find a job.”

He listened as Sirius took a drag, and another, letting out a weak sigh behind him. “Merlin that’s good.”

Remus said nothing, watching as ripple after ripple washed over the pebbles at his feet. It was oddly calming which was, as he was quickly realising, a good thing because at the sight of Sirius it was irritation that filled his lungs with every drag the man took, and not relief. Maybe it was something about the way the man had used his name.

“Dumbledore said you’re to stay here until the trial.” He tried instead, hearing Sirius slump down on the grass behind him.

“Yes, I suppose it’ll be dreadfully boring when Harry goes home.”

Another peak in irritation made him turn his head, “I suppose it hadn’t crossed your mind that I might be staying here this summer.”

Sirius didn’t meet his eyes, “I didn’t think there would be much to keep you here.”

“Much to keep me - Sirius what the hell is wrong with you?” Remus pivoted to face him properly.

“I don’t know what you mean Remus.” He said lazily, still not meeting his eyes.

He opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it again. The way he was lounged, the smoke dancing about in the swiftly diminishing daylight, the dastardly way he would _not_ meet his eyes struck him as so distinctly _Sirius_ that the irritation all but melted away with his retort. Instead he had to swallow against the emotion rising again in his throat. It was the quiet that eventually pulled the other man’s gaze, but after a second it withdrew once again. Remus’ resolve retreated just as quickly, and his thoughts turned instead to that hopeless shame that had stopped him in his tracks just a few minutes before. It seemed impossible that just a few days ago they had both been implacable in their joy at being reunited. It felt more like years.

“I suppose you’re angry at me, for Harry.” He said eventually, taking his place on the grass just a metre or so away, cross-legged like a school child, “I don’t really have any excuses; I’ve been a coward for a long time.”

“Oh don’t embarrass me Remus.” Sirius said, and for the first time Remus caught the scent of emotion between the words, “I may have been gone for a while but don’t think so little of me.”

“Then why didn’t you come to find me?” He turned to find Sirius’ expression unreadable. In this light, the shadows cast by the sunset caught the sharp edges of his gaunt face in a way that tugged at Remus’ gut. Those cheekbones, that had once sat so proudly on his handsome face were now the most prominent of his features. His eyes sunken, lips bruised from their fight not days before. He looked old, older than his years, but that was not a concept Remus was unfamiliar with. They’d grown out of childhood and into a war – any residual adolescent charm had withered away just as their friends had, one by one.

That loss stretched between them like a band of icy elastic, bound to snap back in their faces, but still pulling and pulling them back together the more they tried to tear themselves from one another. The strain was beginning to tell.

“Because,” Sirius began at last, stubbing out his cigarette, “you were always the bravest of us Moons.” He pushed himself up and moved back towards the edge of the lake, taking the elastic with him. Remus had caught his words like a spider would a fly - they sat there on his web, waiting for him to devour them, to suck every ounce of truth from them. He mimicked Sirius’ movements and approached, unsteadily, until he was just a foot behind him.

“Pads.” He whispered, tasting how delicious the word felt as it slipped off his tongue. Sirius hummed in response. “Pads, please.”

Sirius took a moment, and then gradually turned his body until the sun at his back turned his silhouette as black as his hair, “I’m sorry Moony,” he said reaching out a hand and touching his cheek softly, “and I forgive you.”

Like the straw to break the camel’s back, Sirius’ words crashed over him, landing splintered at his feet which fumbled forward as he fell into the man’s arms, like so many years ago when they had locked up their youth with Sirius’ freedom. He cried just like then too, against Sirius’ hard chest. It was a little awkward, as it always had been, Remus’ height making his neck bend uncomfortably but despite the newness of his skinnier frame, the well-proportioned man still managed to cocoon him entirely.

Sirius was crying too, the defining distinction between then and now: when Remus eventually lifted his head, he was met with eyes crazed with distress. Green into cool grey they both tried desperately to communicate what their voices wouldn’t let them, what thirteen years apart had done to them both – the guilt, the anger, the injustice, but above all the simple pain of being in love alone. They weren’t 21anymore, but the careful way Sirius’ expression seemed to ask for permission made Remus feel as though he were younger still when he pressed their lips together.

The kiss was a little awkward too, as though they were out of practice, but it didn’t matter. Sirius’ hands shook as they took Remus’ face between them, Remus sighing closer to his body, his hands pressing firmly into the man’s back. Time became inconsequential to them both as they stuttered and stumbled their way back to each other in a kiss that seemed to last a lifetime. When Remus began to feel his head fogging up with dizziness, he pulled back, gasping for air. He felt Sirius follow him as he lowered himself to the ground again. He waved a hand as the man fussed over him, “I’m fine, still recovering from the Moon, I’ll be fine.”

The thin light of the last few rays of the setting sun made the previously golden lake shimmer a gentle silver instead. It had a much more tender effect, as tender as Sirius as he slipped behind him, pulling Remus back between his legs and into his chest. “Just rest a bit, it’s not dark yet.” He murmured somewhere near his ear.

Remus leant back into him, pushing earlier questions and accusations and guilt out of his mind. He knew this moment existed in a bubble, and it would be one of many, and that in the space between the bubbles they would have to come to terms with all that had happened. No doubt Sirius _was_ angry about how he had treated Harry, just as Remus was still angry about being pushed away, and there remained still the looming truth that they were no longer two of four but a pair alone. The last of the collection of students whose Hogwarts career could be defined by this spot, and the tree that lay just a few yards behind them.

“I have a question.” Remus said eventually. Sirius hummed. “I bumped into Harry, he seemed to blush at the simple idea of me coming out here to meet you.”

Sirius let out a snort, “Ah, well, I momentarily forgot that you were his professor as well as his Dad’s best friend.”

“Aside from the fact that you still clearly have no understanding of personal boundaries, I suppose it’s a good thing I won’t be his professor for much longer.”

“What?” Sirius said, pushing them both a little straighter.

“Ah, careful, still fragile.” The shock of the previous few minutes having worn off Remus was beginning to feel those aches again, most significantly in his ribs, which throbbed beneath his hand. Sirius’ came to rest atop it.

“Sorry, that just took me by surprise, Harry said you’re the best Defence teacher they’ve ever had.”

Remus smiled despite himself, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to stay, “Unfortunately our arch-nemesis happens to teach potions now, and you know he’s always had a slippery tongue.”

“Slimy git.” Sirius muttered.

The sun seemed to have finally lost its grip on the sky because it had at long last slipped into the horizon, making previously green expanses settle into cool blues instead. If one were to open a book of muggle fairytales, this is what they would see painted there on the page. The black lake seemed to go on forever, the peaks in the distance hugging the grounds to keep them safe, and beneath the mutter of dusky wind the quiet shuffle of creatures could be seen drifting here and there in their play. And here Remus was, his back against the chest of the man who had always made this magic seem so inconsequential.

“Where have you been staying?” He asked quietly, wanting to prolong the inevitable.

“The guest quarters on the fourth floor. They’re not bad, missing that Gryffindor charm.” Remus heard the longing in his voice but knew it was beyond his power to provide the thing he wanted most. He knew that Dumbledore will have told him to stay out of sight, but that tower had always been much more of a home than the place of their birth; for both of them.

“Well, I happen to know of some rather cosy rooms on the third floor.” He turned his head up to find Sirius gazing out across the water, seemingly miles away from the conversation. “Pads?”

“Hmm?” He dragged his eyes away to finally meet his own, Remus could see a thought dying as he blinked down at him, “Sorry, I was just thinking about Harry.”

The bubble in his chest popped almost audibly, and Remus shifted slightly, pulling himself forward and wrapping his arms around his legs. “Oh.”

“No, Rem, I mean…just something he said that night, about this summer.” Sirius shuffled forward until they were sat shoulder to shoulder. “Dumbledore said he wanted Harry to stay with his aunt and uncle, for a short period at least.”

“He’s relying on his mother’s protection,” Remus explain, with a small inkling of where the conversation was going, “the moment he doesn’t call that place home the enchantment breaks.”

“Yes well the thing is he doesn’t have to stay there _all_ summer, and we both need a place to live…” he trailed off, leaving the unspoken suggestion hanging in the air, waiting for somebody to grab it.

Remus didn’t answer, mostly because he didn’t know how to answer. If Sirius was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting, then life would be resuming its old pace faster than it had lost it, and sure, they’d always talked about it, back when they had no money and no jobs and really, things hadn’t changed that much had they?

He had a sudden vision: a living room decked in scarlet and gold, a kitchen that was rarely used, pictures of James and Lily hanging on the wall…it was pure fantasy, pure unadulterated self-indulgence. And yet.

And yet.

“I ought to get back to the castle.” Sirius said, standing quickly. Remus snapped out of his daze and quickly followed, flinching slightly at a sharp pain across his abdomen.

“Sirius I think it’s a wonderful idea.” he rushed, fumbling over his words like he often did his own feet, “I mean I don’t know where would take us, I have no money and no credit score and it’s not like you’re the brightest of the bunch when it comes to references, and _god knows_ what it would be like approaching wizarding agents with your name –“

Sirius cut him off with the fiercest kiss Remus thought he’d ever received. There was no asking permission this time, and it was all Remus could do to stop himself tumbling backwards from the intensity.

“Yes,” Sirius gasped, pulling away and pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then his nose, and his forehead, punctuating them all with little squeals of excitement. Then they both began to laugh, quietly at first, and then growing louder, until they were both clinging to each other’s arms to stop from falling over with the force of it. Anyone looking on might have thought that two NEWT students had perhaps finally cracked under the pressure, but it was anything but – it was a letting go, an emancipation. Perhaps Sirius hadn’t been the only one to be imprisoned all these years.

“Ow, ow Pads laughing hurts, stop it.” He straightened, clutching his ribs, taking some deep breaths, smelling the approaching nightfall on the air.

“Sorry, sorry, come on, let’s go find Harry.”

“No Wait.” Sirius paused in his stride and turned back towards him. He wasn’t sure where the man had gotten his clothing, but he still managed to have them hanging off his frame like sheathes of lace and satin. Even in his ragged state he still managed to look suave and expensive. “If we do this, we do it properly. We can’t put Harry at any risk.”

Sirius didn’t respond, his smile lazy, his stature complacent. “How on earth would we be putting him at risk Moony, come on, don’t be stupid.”

Remus rose a little at the accusation, but he put the feeling aside, knowing that this was a marathon and not a sprint - knowing this would not be the last time such feelings would need to be sidestepped. Sirius had thirteen years of absent maturity to make up for before he truly understood the gravity of the situation, and as much as caution lingered at the back of his tongue Remus couldn’t bring himself to put a dent in that wall Sirius had built around himself yet. That would come, with time, and patience, and…

“Could you love me again Sirius?” Remus asked. There was no obligation in the question. The cocky smile slowly sank from Sirius’ face and for a second, Remus thought he was going to turn and walk away but instead, he began to approach him again. His gaze was hot, and Remus could feel it, what he’d been waiting for right there, at his fingertips, even as Sirius reached up and traced the back of his hand across his scarred cheek.

“Remus John Lupin.” He said, “What made you think I’d ever stopped?”

_Absolution._

**Author's Note:**

> A little note for those who have read the first couple of parts of this series: I'm not really sure how I intended Harry regaining his memory to be interpreted so I'll leave it up to you. There's no canonical proof that memories can't be returned once taken, but perhaps Lily's protection stretches a little further than we thought, or maybe Remus wasn't performing as well magically as he thought. Happy speculating :)


End file.
